


toned to blue and grey

by heartsways



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, lady surgeons in love, naked talking in bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9445178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsways/pseuds/heartsways
Summary: set post "Kill List", bernie and serena wake up - literally and metaphorically, i suppose





	

Serena’s leaning up on one elbow - long enough for a few pins and needles to prickle up her arm - and looking down at Bernie so intently that the room feels much quieter than it is.  There’s traffic on the main road and it was the insistent blare of a horn that woke Serena in the first place.  But all of that seems to fade to a distant rumble.  Someone else’s concern, someone else’s life.  Serena’s been responsible for so much lately that taking care of herself has been shoved down a long list of priorities.  But she’s determined to take care of this.  Whatever it is and wherever she and Bernie end up, it won’t be for lack of care.  Serena knows that as fervently as she knows she loves Bernie.  Is _in_ love with her.

  
“Are you watching me sleep?” Bernie mumbles, cracking open an eye.  
  


“If I say yes is that too weird?”  
  


Bernie smiles, head sinking back onto the pillow beneath it.  "Bit weird,“ she mutters.  But when her eyes open and she looks up at Serena, there’s no mistaking their intensity.  The fear that usually threads a dark ring around brown is gone and it’s almost like she’s staring at Serena with new eyes, new wants.    
  


Serena recognises the feeling now, welcomes the burn in her belly that ignites a fire; it spreads everywhere, racing through her veins and she shifts beneath the covers, her leg bumping against Bernie’s.  She knows how to satisfy the hunger that is uniquely theirs, how to slake the thirst that has, she’s latently discovered, been a part of her all along.  Now it’s made of flesh and bone and - she lets out a shaky breath - lying beside her in bed.  
  


"Everything okay?” Bernie shoves a hand behind her head.  She knows, deep down, that it is.  When it’s just the two of them together, it always is.  And it’s silly to miss something she never really had but returning to Holby - to Serena - felt like coming home in lots of ways.  
  


“This is the first time I’ve woken up to a woman in my bed,” Serena tells her with that self-effacing, narrowed-eyed look she has.  But her fingertips brush over Bernie’s clavicle, following the shape of the bone.  Then she smiles and her touch slows, dipping down to the curve of Bernie’s breast.  "I hope it won’t be the last.“  
  


Bernie wants to make a joke, to be flippant about Serena’s attraction for her and how it’s changed everything.  She looks up, catches the flare of something meaningful and important in Serena’s gaze and Bernie can’t remember wanting anything but this in all its solemnity.  She lets out a wavering breath as Serena frowns, her cool fingers tracing the curve of skin, the hidden heat of flesh.  Bernie’s hips turn involuntarily; she moans quietly.  She can’t help it.    
  


Last night, after the flurry of pent-up frustration had subsided, they’d whispered themselves into sleep and one another’s arms.  Serena’s head had rested in the crook of Bernie’s neck like it belonged there, breathing her in and holding her close.  Bernie had waited until Serena’s breath evened out to say words she’d only felt and never said.  Not truly.  
  


It’s daylight outside already and they’re probably going to be late but, even so, Bernie feels those words resonate inside her again.  She bites at her lip to stop herself saying them.  Serena’s hand trickles down over her breast, palm brushing over a nipple that springs hard beneath it.  Bernie swallows; she can’t take her eyes off Serena.  That’s been the problem all along.  
  


"I thought it would be different, you know,” Serena observes.  Her hand flattens out on the flat surface of Bernie’s torso where the skin is already burning for her.  Her eyes flutter shut for a second then snap open and she smiles indulgently down at Bernie’s furrowed brow.  "Being with a woman, I mean.  I thought it would be - the sex - I thought it would be different, somehow.“  
  


Her fingers curl possessively over Bernie’s hip and the glitter in her eyes is mesmerising.  Serena wears her passion beneath a mask in the theatre but now it’s uncovered, as naked as they are.  It’s dazzling, Bernie thinks, in all the ways that Serena has been and will be to her.  She lets out a sigh as Serena’s head drops and her mouth shivers a kiss over the base of Bernie’s throat.  
  


"But it’s not the sex that’s different,” Serena muses, then lifts her head and stops abruptly.  Her face crinkles into lines of self-recrimination before she’s even drawn breath to continue.  "That doesn’t mean - I’m not trying to - I hope you know that I really - I really enjoyed…“  
  


She trails off miserably, a practiced, placatory smile on her lips.  It’s easy to be hesitant when things are this good, this right.  And always that tiny, shrill voice of doubt warning her that, should she give her heart to Bernie Wolfe, there’s a good chance it’ll be taken hostage.  
  


"I really enjoyed, too,” Bernie tells her.  She puts her palm against Serena’s cheek and it floods warmth across exposed skin.  There’s a little smile on her face that Serena wants to kiss, to feel against her lips and suddenly everything seems clear again.    
  


“What I mean is,” Serena says, a little more confident and a little less wary, “that of course it was different because…”  
  


“Ladies,” Bernie supplies helpfully with a tiny chuckle.  
  


Serena nods.  "Right.  But that’s not really it.“  
  


Her fingers skitter over the rise of Bernie’s stomach.  The sensation licks at Bernie’s insides, drawing her towards the fire against all good sense and judgment.  But it feels right, somehow, to do it.  It feels safe, however terrified she is of what it means.  
  


"Then what - ” Bernie gulps as Serena hums in appreciation and her fingers drift lower, “ - what is it?”  
  


Serena looks surprised, then unsurprised, then she laughs in that low, husky way that has Bernie squirming a little, throat thick with shallow breaths.  
  


“The difference is you,” Serena says, and kisses her.

 

 


End file.
